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// my mind is a cone / everything important gets stuck in the horn / I’m barreling down body part blvd / with my head down I’m feeling pretty good about my chances / my mind is my baby / my body is a piece of paper / I fold it up, I stuff it down / I fold it up, I stuff it down / oh no! not again / I got the key but the padlock is bent / kick can circling / I kick back with the candy bar soda kids / I had one hundred gold thoughts that I hung from my poor man’s guilt and one by one I retire them / I fold them up and bury them under my winter-kill / I will make you a bet / I can hit this american nail on the head / my thoughts are so bloated / I’m like a book that got wet / oh no! not again / I got the key but the padlock is bent / I had one hundred gold thoughts that I hung from my poor man’s guilt and one by one I retire them / I fold them up and bury them under my winter-kill / as hard as it may seem to get some relief from all these cold calls that I get / I take my lamb and I break its legs / I wrap it up and bury it under my winter kill / I left my bag on the four heading downtown / I broke my legs running after it / I lost my mind heading southbound on I-5 / I wrap it up and bury it under my winter-kill //

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Kelli SchaeferPortland, Oregon

Mirroring the expansive noise and incisive shadow of PJ Harvey, with the fearless abandon of Nick Cave and vocal play of
Bjork, Schaefer travels at light speed through the American landscape so many left and forgot to examine. It's art-pop with depth and vision, the product of an artist who not only carved out a space for herself but has grown into a voice with the potential to shape a landscape....more